"Where are the brides?! We've been waiting for almost two hours! Are you mocking the respectable Kingsley family?!" Albert's voice thundered through the opulent yet tense living room of the Walker residence, his face flushed with impatience and anger. He stood toe-to-toe with Tony Walker, who could only offer weak excuses.

Tony Walker wiped the cold sweat beading on his temple, his forced smile trembling at the edges. "No, of course we wouldn't dare insult the Kingsley family. You understand, the bride needs ample time to prepare her makeup." He tried to steady his voice, unaware his knee was shaking slightly beneath his fine trousers. "My daughter must look perfect to stand beside Mr. Gabriel. Please, just a little more patience."

CRASH!

Albert's fury erupted. He kicked the low mahogany table in front of him, sending a beautifully arranged platter of refreshments and delicate porcelain cups flying. The sound of shattering china echoed sharply in the large room, making the hovering servants flinch. "Enough! Two hours is more than enough! I will drag your daughter to the altar this instant, or you and your entire family will be erased!"

"But, Mr. Albert, my daughter—" Tony's protest was cut off.

"Felix!" Albert barked, not turning his glare from Tony. "Go to the girl's room! Drag her out! I don't care if she looks beautiful or is dressed like a clown! Mr. Gabriel must not be kept waiting any longer!"

A towering man in a sharply tailored black suit nodded curtly. Felix, with a face like carved stone, motioned to two other similarly dressed men. The trio moved with grim purpose, their polished shoes clicking ominously against the marble floor as they headed for the grand staircase.

---

In the bridal chamber—Marsha Walker's old room, now feeling like a gilded cage—Marie Walker paced frantically. The plush carpet bore the marks of her anxious steps. The room was lavishly decorated, a testament to the life meant for her firstborn, but now it felt hollow and suffocating.

"Time is running out. What will I tell Mr. Gabriel if he discovers Marsha died last night in an accident?" The terrifying truth was that Marsha had met a tragic end in a car crash just hours before. Her death was a desperate secret, buried by the Walkers to avoid sparking the infamous wrath of the Kingsleys, who would see a broken promise as the ultimate insult.

"Why hasn't she arrived yet?" Marie muttered, nervously biting her thumbnail to the quick. She and Tony had scrambled to find a random girl, paying a hefty sum for her to pretend to be Marsha. Their family's survival was the stake. But the hired replacement was nowhere to be found.

Knock! Knock! KNOCK!

The violent pounding on the door made Marie's heart leap into her throat. She nearly stumbled.

"Open this door! Where is the girl?! Are you trying to play games with us, huh?!" Felix's gruff voice boomed from the hallway, twisting Marie's fear into a tighter knot. A cold sweat broke out on her skin.

"Oh, God, please, spare me and my family." Marie clasped her hands tightly over her chest in a futile prayer, hoping against hope the Kingsleys wouldn't execute her and Tony once the missing bride was discovered.

"Open up! Before I break it down!"

Marie's trembling hand was inches from the ornate door handle when a soft, almost imperceptible sound came from the direction of the room's balcony. Her head snapped towards it, eyes wide with fresh fear.

"Who… who's there?"

She hurriedly grabbed a long, heavy umbrella from a corner, hefting it like a makeshift weapon. What if one of Kingsley's men had come through the balcony? The large window slid open from the outside, but the movement was whisper-quiet, expertly avoiding the notice of the black-suited men swarming the house.

"Mother, it's me."

Marie's breath hitched. A figure clad in dark, form-fitting attire slipped through the window with a fluid, graceful motion. The girl removed a sleek black mask, revealing a strikingly beautiful face, and rushed into Marie's open arms.

"Mother…"

This was Seraphina, Marsha's younger sister, the Walker family's second child whose very existence had been hidden away. From the moment Marsha was born, her path was sealed: she was to marry a Kingsley scion at the appointed time. All their parents' focus and resources were poured into molding Marsha into the perfect, elegant wife for Gabriel Kingsley. Consequently, Seraphina was raised not by her parents, but by Aunt Sonia, a senior nurse in the household.

While Marsha was tutored in etiquette, beauty, culinary arts, knitting, and piano, Seraphina was left to forge her own path. Drawn to martial arts from a young age, she eventually chose the dangerous life of a bounty hunter, a mercenary for hire. Their personalities were stark opposites: Marsha was gentle and soft, while Seraphina was a tough, resilient girl who cherished her freedom above all.

Marie released the embrace and cupped Seraphina's face, her eyes tracing the lovely, determined features that had grown even more captivating over time. "My child…"

"Mother, is it true? Is Marsha really… gone?"

Marie nodded, her expression pained. "Your sister was in a single-car accident last night."

"But… how, Mother? How could this happen?"

"I don't understand either. The police said the brakes on her car failed."

Seraphina fell silent, sinking into a nearby velvet sofa. The room was filled with the remnants of Marsha's life—perfume bottles, silk ribbons, a forgotten book on the bedside table. "Marsha's car was a luxury model, the latest release, a gift from the Kingsley family," Seraphina said, her voice soft yet carrying a subtle, dangerous edge. She lifted her gaze after a moment, her eyes flickering toward the door that continued to shudder under Felix's assault. "Mother, doesn't it seem strange? A high-end vehicle with guaranteed security suddenly malfunctions?"

A cold suspicion settled in Seraphina's mind. This was no simple accident. She vowed to investigate herself, and if her suspicions proved true, she would hunt the culprit to the ends of the earth. For now, she offered Marie a small, reassuring smile and shook her head. "It's nothing, Mother."

"Open this damned door, you wretched woman! What's taking so long?! Do you want me to truly break it down, huh?!" Felix's roar was muffled but clear.

Seraphina's eyes turned icy as they fixed on the door. The insult was not lost on her. She rose to her feet, her movements quick yet unnervingly calm, which instantly sent Marie into a new panic.

"No, Sera! Don't open it!"

Seraphina looked at Marie's terrified face. "Mother, calm down. I will face them and—"

"You may be capable of facing them, but wait. I'm still waiting for the substitute… the woman who will pose as Marsha and marry Mr. Gabriel."

"A substitute?" Seraphina made sure she had heard correctly.

"Yes, a paid stand-in. This marriage cannot be canceled. You know the Kingsleys won't let us off lightly, no matter what happens." Marie cast another frantic glance at the door. "But time is running out, and she hasn't arrived."

"Mother, sending a stranger to impersonate Marsha… isn't that merely delaying our family's execution?" Seraphina reasoned. The Kingsleys were not fools; they would uncover the lie eventually. Their retribution would be far worse if they discovered they had been deceived. Marie's plan was a temporary shield at best.

"Mother, just say what you're thinking," Seraphina urged, seeing the conflict and hesitation written all over Marie's face.

"Sera…" Marie took a shaky breath. "What if… what if you took Marsha's place and married Mr. Gabriel? Perhaps the Kingsleys wouldn't be as enraged if they knew the substitute was still a Walker daughter…" Her words trailed off as she saw Seraphina's expression become utterly impassive, a mask that revealed nothing. "No, forget it. It was a foolish thought, I'm desperate—"

BANG!

The door finally gave way, splintering at the frame as two large men forced it open. Felix strode in, his eyes immediately scanning and assessing Seraphina from head to toe, a sneer curling his lip.

"Well, well. You haven't even started your makeup, and you're dressed in rags. While your face is passable, do you intend to walk to the altar looking like this? It's a blatant insult to the Kingsley family!"

His outrage wasn't entirely unfounded. Seraphina still wore her black tactical pants and a fitted dark t-shirt. Though her beauty was undeniable even in such simple attire, Felix had been waiting for two hours. Why was the bride seemingly unprepared?

If Mr. Gabriel learned of his fiancée's disrespectful conduct, Felix was sure his boss wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in the girl's empty head. Stupid woman!

"Mr. Felix, you misunderstand, this girl isn't—" Marie desperately tried to clarify, unwilling to let Seraphina be forced into the role. She already carried immense guilt for neglecting Seraphina; sacrificing her now for the family's selfish survival would be an unforgivable sin.

But Seraphina didn't let her finish. She raised a hand, calmly cutting Marie off. Her gaze met Felix's, devoid of any fear.

"Of course, I also consider this a serious insult," Seraphina stated coolly, her voice steady. "You wish for me to marry your master, yet you couldn't even provide a suitable gown." Her eyes drifted pointedly towards a mannequin in the corner, displaying a dated, slightly yellowed white wedding dress, its style decades out of fashion.

Felix followed her gaze. Damn it. Even he, a man with little interest in fashion, could see the dress was a relic.

"Stop making excuses. Just wear that dress. Don't be so picky. We have no more time to waste," he growled.

"Very well, I'll wear it. But when the entire world mocks Mr. Gabriel's bride for her antiquated gown, I will not be held responsible." Seraphina began walking toward the mannequin.

Felix's face flushed red, a sting of realization hitting him. Hell, the girl has a point. If Mr. Gabriel was displeased and humiliated by his bride's appearance, Felix would undoubtedly share the blame. Even though the choice of this dreadful dress was the doing of Mr. Gabriel's first wife, Evelyn, Gabriel would never believe it. And rather than blame Evelyn, whom Gabriel cherished, Felix's head would likely roll.

"F-Fine! Wait. I'll have my men find a new dress. Immediately," Felix conceded, his tone losing some of its bluster.

Seraphina regarded him with that same flat expression. "Then do it. What are you waiting for? You're rather slow."

Felix was stunned by her audacity. He had never met his master's intended bride before; even Gabriel had shown no interest. But Evelyn, the first wife, certainly had. Felix once overheard her ordering an investigation into Marsha's personality. The report described a gentle, graceful, and delicate girl—the polar opposite of the tempestuous young woman before him. Had Evelyn's investigators been utterly incompetent?

"Hey, you fool," Seraphina added, her tone almost conversational. "If your master beheads me because of this, I'll haunt you to the ends of the earth, since you'll be the cause."

Felix snapped back to the present. "My apologies. I-I will be quick. Hey, you! Over here!" he yelled to a subordinate outside the door.

Marie let out a shaky sigh of relief as Felix hurried out, barking orders about finding a new gown.

"Sera… does this mean you'll go through with it? You'll marry Gabriel?"

Seraphina nodded. "Will you keep waiting for that swindler to show up? I believe you've been duped, Mother."

"You're right. I was too desperate, too hasty last night. But Sera, your freedom… it will be taken from you."

A gentle, almost serene smile touched Seraphina's lips. "I know. But don't worry, Mother. I've dealt with packs of wolves before." Facing Gabriel might not be as perilous as some of the targets she'd pursued. While she didn't know the man she would marry, she was confident she wouldn't die quickly in his hands. "The most important thing is our family's safety. That's all that matters now."

"Sera…"

Seraphina reached up and pulled the tie from her hair. A cascade of lustrous, dark locks tumbled down, framing her face and flowing beautifully over her shoulders and back.

"Ah, and don't forget," she added, her tone turning practical. "You must find that fraudster and get your money back, Mother."

A tearful, grateful smile broke through Marie's anxiety. "I understand, my dear. I understand."

The ancient wedding dress was swiftly removed from the mannequin. Seraphina didn't dwell on why the Kingsley family had sent such a shabby gown for their master's grand wedding. Clearly, it was an intended slight. However, the ugly dress had served a purpose; it had given her leverage to delay and momentarily deflect the family's fury.

Now, the beautiful girl stood before the immense wooden doors of the cathedral, clad in a stunning, floor-length white wedding dress that had been procured with remarkable speed. The fabric was exquisite, the cut impeccable, yet it felt like a costume to her. She stared straight ahead with an unnerving calm, a stark contrast to Tony Walker, who fidgeted nervously beside her, about to 'give away' the daughter he had long ignored.

"Sera… I'm sorry," Tony whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Seraphina did not turn her head. "Do not call me Sera again, Father. These walls and doors likely have ears," she stated quietly, her gaze fixed on the carved wood before them.

Tony flinched. "Forgive me, I was careless. But, my child… what if they eventually discover you are… not Marsha?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead," Seraphina replied, her tone pragmatic. "But… didn't they never demand to meet the one they were to marry?" She finally glanced at him, offering a thin, almost imperceptible smile. "I am your child, am I not?"

"Of course you are! One of my most precious," Tony insisted, his eyes welling up. He felt a profound awkwardness facing her. He had been so focused on grooming and watching over Marsha that Seraphina had become a stranger in his own home. Normally, a child so neglected would refuse such a sacrifice, yet Seraphina displayed no hatred. This only deepened Tony's guilt, making him feel utterly unworthy before her.

"I'm sorry no one ever knew I had another daughter named Seraphina."

"I forgive you. Perhaps this was meant to be my life, Father," she said, her voice softening just a fraction. "Consider this: because I was unseen, I became the ready replacement for Sister Marsha."

"Sera…" Tony's heart ached. He never consciously meant to make Seraphina Marsha's shadow. He was simply a man terrified of his family's destruction if the Kingsleys were unsatisfied. In his fear, he had been profoundly unfair.

Seraphina shifted her attention back to the doors, sensing the ceremony about to begin. "It's all because I failed as your father," Tony confessed, a tear finally escaping.

If not for his past failures, Marsha wouldn't have been groomed for Gabriel, and Seraphina wouldn't be standing here in a wedding gown, about to marry a man known as a devil. She would suffer greatly under the thumb of a heartless mafia lord. It seemed only reasonable that she couldn't muster genuine respect for him; even with Marie, Seraphina still felt a distance.

The story was short and bitter: Tony had failed in business years ago, incurring a massive debt to the Kingsley family. Initially, Jack Kingsley, Gabriel's father, had threatened to feed the Walkers to his prized savage beasts. Tony had begged for mercy. Jack then asked what precious thing Tony could offer to settle the debt. In his desperation, Tony answered that the only valuable things he had were the lives of his wife and his unborn child.

Jack had no interest in a married woman, especially one heavy with child, as his own wife was pregnant with Gabriel at the time. So, he decreed that if Tony's baby was a boy, he would be surrendered to Jack. If it was a girl, Tony must prepare her to become Jack's daughter-in-law. This was because Jack knew the Walker lineage consistently produced offspring with superior, intelligent genes and remarkable capabilities. Tony, of course, was the exception to that familial trait.

The heavy church doors began to creak open, letting in a sliver of light and the solemn chords of the organ.

Tony grasped Seraphina's hand gently. "Are you ready, my child?"

"Always," Seraphina replied, her beautiful face a mask of serene composure, devoid of any nervous ripple or flicker of fear.

As she stepped into the cavernous nave with sure strides, her gaze fixed ahead, the assembled guests began to whisper amongst themselves. Crystal chandeliers glimmered high above, casting a holy light on the scene, but something was palpably amiss.

The problem was glaring: Gabriel, the groom, was nowhere to be seen at the altar waiting to receive her.

"The groom isn't here."

"How dreadful. Perhaps he doesn't want this marriage."

"Of course not. Rumor says Mr. Gabriel is a heartless devil. He wouldn't give face to a girl he doesn't love."

"So this is purely an arranged match by Jack?"

"What else? Look at Mr. Jack's face. He looks like he'll explode any second because his son hasn't arrived."

Their hushed conversations buzzed like angry bees. A man in an impeccably tailored suit and a distinctive Panama hat—the signature appearance of Jack Kingsley—sat in the front pew by the altar. His face was twisted into a grim, wry scowl, his displeasure evident to all.

"Albert!" Jack's hissed command cut through the murmurs.

Albert rushed to his side, bowing slightly. "Mr. Jack."

"Where is Gabriel? Where is that boy? The blessing is about to commence, yet the insolent brat is still absent!"

"My apologies, Sir. I will contact Mr. Gabriel once more." Albert leaned in, whispering urgent orders into the ear of a subordinate. Jack knew Gabriel was reluctant; he also knew about Evelyn, the woman Gabriel called his wife. But Jack had never given his blessing to that union. Evelyn was just a pretty face who bore a resemblance to Gabriel's childhood infatuation. Gabriel, however, was obsessively devoted to her.

Evelyn, for her part, served and loved Gabriel willingly, not only because Jack's sole heir was devastatingly handsome but also because Gabriel was a formidable force. He was the successor groomed to rule the black world in Berlin, their wealth from illicit arms trades beyond question. Many women vied for his attention, and Evelyn was notoriously adept at eliminating any she perceived as a threat.

"Mr. Gabriel still hasn't arrived?" Albert muttered, panic creeping into his voice.

The tension seeped into the guests. Normally, the groom would be standing proudly at the altar, awaiting his bride. Gabriel wasn't just late; he was entirely absent.

"How embarrassing for the bride. She must feel utterly humiliated."

This thought also plagued Tony, who still stood faithfully beside Seraphina. He glanced at his daughter, his expression shifting to confusion. Seraphina's face remained a picture of calm detachment. There was no sign of anger, hurt, or humiliation at being publicly scorned. Her gaze was steady and undisturbed; she seemed indifferent to whether Gabriel appeared or not. Tony let out a faint, relieved sigh.

"Where is the groom?" the pastor asked, his tone laced with confusion that hung heavily in the air.

Jack, his patience evaporated, spun around. "Albert! Find him now!"

A sound came from a side door near the altar. All heads turned. A man appeared, dressed not in a wedding tuxedo but in sleek, all-black casual attire—a fitted shirt and trousers. His steps were slow, deliberate, and devoid of any urgency, both hands tucked casually into his pockets. He moved with a lethal grace that seemed more suited to a shadowy alley than a cathedral.

Jack squeezed the bridge of his nose, then fixed Albert with a sharp, venomous glare. "Why is he dressed like that, Albert? What were your instructions? And his tie?" Jack's voice was a low, threatening whisper. "He looks more prepared for a duel than a wedding ceremony."

Albert could only bow deeper. He had, of course, prepared everything—the finest tuxedo, the silk tie. But if Gabriel refused to wear them, what power did Albert have? He valued his life too much to provoke Gabriel's infamous temper.

Now, Seraphina and Gabriel stood side by side before the pastor, yet Gabriel didn't bother to cast a single glance her way. The marriage vows were recited. Gabriel gave his responses in a flat, detached monotone, and within minutes, the two strangers were officially declared husband and wife.

"Now, you are officially husband and wife. You may now greet each other," the pastor announced, attempting to inject some warmth into the glacial atmosphere.

Gabriel remained silent. He finally turned his head, his cold, empty eyes sweeping over Seraphina's form for a fleeting second before he simply turned and walked away, leaving his bride standing alone at the altar.

"Gabriel!" Jack's shout of anger and frustration echoed in the vaulted space. This wasn't just an insult to Seraphina; it was a blatant embarrassment to the entire Kingsley family.

His shout did nothing to slow Gabriel's retreating footsteps. Jack, seething, turned his concern to Seraphina. He felt a pang of worry and anxiety for the girl. Surely, she would be on the verge of tears, heartbroken and humiliated by her husband's abandonment mere moments after their union.

He walked over to her, his cane tapping softly on the stone floor. "My dear, please forgive Gabriel. He… he cannot mean it." Even as he said it, Jack knew the opposite was true. Gabriel meant every bit of his disrespect.

Seraphina lifted her bridal veil. She offered Jack a thin, polite smile. "It's quite alright, Sir," she answered, her voice smooth and eerily flat. The tone, so devoid of emotion, sent an uncomfortable chill through Jack and those close enough to hear.

"You must be sad," Jack pressed gently, studying her face.

Seraphina merely smiled again, a faint curve of her lips that didn't reach her eyes. Jack was taken aback. She expressed no outrage, no sorrow over Gabriel's behavior. The girl seemed cold and indifferent, utterly unlike the gentle, refined portrait painted by the investigators who had reported on his future daughter-in-law's daily life.

Seraphina was uncertain about what she had just done or what new life awaited her after speaking her vows before God. One thing was clear: she was now sitting in the back of a luxurious town car, still clad in her wedding gown, being driven to the residence she would henceforth call home. The city lights of Berlin blurred past the rain-streaked windows.

"Is Berlin often rainy this time of year?" Seraphina asked, breaking the heavy silence.

"Not always, Miss. Only occasionally," Albert replied, his focus on the wet road ahead.

As a bounty hunter, Seraphina had never maintained a permanent address. She drifted from city to city, country to country, sometimes crossing continents for a high-paying contract. Therefore, her question about Berlin's weather was not mere small talk; it was a tactical gathering of basic environmental intel.

Albert glanced in the rearview mirror, studying Seraphina's impassive face. "Forgive me, Miss, but don't you also live in Berlin? Why ask such a thing?" The question was indeed strange. Why would a native inquire about her own city's climate? Unless… was it possible the girl had been kept sequestered indoors, never truly experiencing the outside world?

Seraphina's eyes met his in the mirror with a calm, unnerving directness. Ah, so Albert is not just a driver, she noted. He's observant. She tilted her head slightly, the diamond studs in her ears catching the fleeting light from a streetlamp. "Did I say you were forbidden to ask questions, Albert?"

"N-no, it's not that. I merely found it curious," he stammered, feeling the sharpness of her gaze.

"Seems you dislike idle chatter. Very well, let's get to the point," Seraphina stated, her tone shifting to one of cool efficiency. "What is my husband like?"

Albert's grip tightened on the steering wheel. He had suspected this woman was different, and he feared his answer might inadvertently provoke her. Yet, Seraphina seemed adept at steering conversations to her will.

"Mr. Gabriel," Albert began, choosing his words with care, "as you know, oversees the Kingsley family business."

Seraphina raised a delicate eyebrow. "The supplier of illegal arms to the world, correct? Even the old maid in my parents' house knew that much. I want to know what he is like as a person."

Albert swallowed thickly. Why did this new wife feel so intimidating? "Mr. Gabriel," he continued, his voice dropping into a more serious register, "is a figure of immense firmness and hardness, surpassing anyone I've ever known—even Mr. Jack." He swallowed again, as if discussing his employer's cruelty might summon it. "As a mafia lord, his ruthlessness makes others tremble. Yet, his decisiveness and capability also command great respect from his peers." He stole another glance in the mirror. Seraphina's expression remained unchanged, a placid mask.

"So, your master angers easily?" she inquired, her tone laced with skeptical curiosity.

Albert adjusted his tie, which suddenly felt constricting. His eyes were cautious, weighing each syllable. "Yes, Miss. Even a buzzing fly could be reason enough for his wrath. His temper is… volatile and unpredictable. It often poisons the atmosphere."

A faint, sarcastic smile touched Seraphina's lips. She rested her chin on her hand, looking out at the passing neo-classical buildings. "How interesting," she murmured, her eyes reflecting the city's gloom. "What else triggers his anger?"

"Ah, the list is long, Miss," Albert said, his lips tightening as if recalling a catalog of fatal missteps. "But above all, do not touch anything he considers his. And you should know," his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "Mr. Gabriel was married before you entered his life."

---

In a lavishly appointed suite elsewhere in the city, Evelyn Kingsley gripped her smartphone so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her heart pounded a violent rhythm against her ribs. With a scream of pure rage, she hurled the device against the ornate silk wallpaper. It left a faint scuff mark on the expensive material.

"Damn him!" she shrieked, the sound a mix of shattered glass and raw fury. Her wide, manic eyes were fixed on the screen, which displayed a photo of her husband at his wedding ceremony with another woman.

Stumbling forward on unsteady legs, Evelyn erupted. She swept her arm across a delicate console table, sending a crystal vase, silver-framed photographs, and a Tiffany desk lamp crashing to the thick Persian rug. Tears of anger and betrayal streamed down her cheeks, her carefully applied makeup now a ruined masterpiece.

Suddenly, the bedroom door burst open. Paul, his blonde hair disheveled and face etched with confusion, stood in the doorway. "Eve! What in hell—"

"Paul!" Evelyn roared, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Look at this mess! He married her, Paul! My husband took another wife today!" Her anguish echoed off the gilded walls of the opulent room.

"Calm down! You need to breathe!"

"Calm down?! How can I be calm when my husband has another woman?! You tell me to be quiet?! Are you insane?!"

"No! You need to listen to me first!"

Slap!

The woman in the silk negligee stormed over to Paul, her hands clutching the collar of his crisp shirt with surprising strength, her eyes blazing with volatile emotion. "You fool! You incompetent! You said you would stop him from marrying that stupid girl! You said everything was handled last night! Liar!"

"Eve! Listen! I told you I would take care of the girl, and I kept my word!"

"Speak clearly!"

"Last night, I arranged an accident. I made sure of it with my own eyes!"

Paul was not lying. He was Evelyn's most zealous supporter, a loyal fanatic for whom her every desire was a command. Eliminating anyone who threatened Evelyn's happiness, including Marsha Walker, was simply part of his duty. He had orchestrated her death to cancel the wedding. Yet, inexplicably, the ceremony had proceeded.

"Don't lie to me! The proof is right here! That bitch is alive! She's my husband's lawful wife now! Not like me, just a hidden secret all this time!"

"No! I swear the girl is dead, Eve! I have no doubt!"

"Then who is that?!" she screamed, pointing at the cracked phone screen.

"I don't know!"

"Don't joke with me!"

"I'm not!" Paul pried her frantic hands from his collar. "Now listen! You saw the wedding, but did you see the most important part?"

"What are you talking about?! Their first night?!"

"No! I'm sure you missed it. Your husband left her at the altar! He didn't even look at his new wife in front of everyone! Did you see that?!"

Evelyn paused, her brow furrowing. She scrambled for her damaged phone, its screen webbed with cracks. Her mouth fell open slightly. In her initial emotional storm, she had seen the video of her husband standing beside the bride and had raged without watching further. "So… Gabriel abandoned her right after they were declared married?"

"Exactly! Did you see that humiliating scene?"

Evelyn, like everyone in the Kingsley household, had known about the arrangement Jack Kingsley had forced upon his son. That was why she had reluctantly accepted her role as Gabriel's hidden, unacknowledged wife. As Gabriel's wedding day to the nobody named Marsha approached, her terror had grown. She feared Gabriel's love for her would waver and he would eventually discard her.

Now, trembling, she watched the video again. It showed Gabriel standing next to Marsha in her beautiful gown, a sight that made her blood boil. But then the scene changed. It showed Gabriel turning and walking away without a backward glance, leaving his bride utterly alone in the middle of the ceremony. A wave of savage relief and satisfaction washed over Evelyn.

"Gabriel doesn't want his new wife," she murmured, before a satisfied, brittle laugh escaped her. She could imagine the stupid girl's humiliation and hurt.

Beside her, Paul chuckled darkly. "The foolish girl must be regretting everything now. Her dream of becoming the great lady of the Kingsley family shattered in an instant."

Evelyn's laughter grew louder, ringing with vicious pleasure through the opulent room. The dread that had haunted her for months seemed to melt away. She reveled in every second of this vindication.

"Paul, call the maid! Now!" she ordered, her voice tense with sudden purpose. Her fingers played with the ends of her hair. "I need a bath and to get dressed. I must look perfect tonight."

Paul frowned, straightening his tie. "Where are you planning to go, Evelyn?"

"Ah, I'm not going anywhere," Evelyn said, a mysterious smile curling her lips as she walked to the window, looking out at the city where her husband now resided with his legal bride. "I'll simply prepare myself here, in my room, waiting for my husband to return."

"Hmm," Paul grunted with a cynical sneer. "What if your husband chooses to spend his first night with his new wife instead?"

Evelyn threw her head back and laughed, a sharp, piercing sound. "You think Gabriel, my husband, will be by that woman's side? Ha! You saw how coldly he discarded her this afternoon." She strode closer to Paul, her gaze sharp and filled with unwavering conviction. "Paul, tonight you will witness how I satisfy the honorable Mr. Gabriel. And believe me, I will not leave the slightest room for my husband to approach another woman!" She ended her declaration with a high, triumphant laugh that seemed to scratch at the very air in the room.